


if you think this love is black magic

by saddendays



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Narrator, M/M, POV First Person, Religious Content, What am I doing, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 23:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddendays/pseuds/saddendays
Summary: It was a summer morning.





	if you think this love is black magic

**Author's Note:**

> i do not regret writing this at 3 am but i also kinda do
> 
> unbeta-ed and highkey inspired by a song i listened to a long time ago

It was a hot summer morning when I had to run out to the empty fields to witness it.

 

People—so many people, the entire village, actually, crowded together in the empty field around the outskirts of the town. All of them were looking upon a wooden cross, not a stranger to this town run by a church, but it was a peculiar sight today.

 

Today, there was a man tied to the cross.

 

From what I can decipher through my poor vision (I had forgotten to wear my glasses from being pushed out of the house in a rush, but at least I was at the front), and through some accounts of acquaintances, the man had pitch black hair, glowing a grim grey under the harsh sunlight. He had quite pale skin—that, I was able to see from a mile away—and a short stature. He was stained in dirt, dressed in rags, and I suppose if he were dressed up properly he would’ve been quite the beauty.

 

He was quite downcast, eyes trained to the ground, frown painted on his features.

 

I nudge the old lady, who was originally so engrossed at the sight of the man, and she turns to me, surprise on her wrinkled features, thin lips forming a line.

 

“What is it boy?” her gaze turns back to the man. “Can’t you see an old lady trying to watch?”

 

“What is happening?” I ask anyway, curiosity getting the best of me.

 

“Brother Baekhyun found a witch,” my eyes widen at the word. _Witch._ It was a word I was familiar with ever since I was a young boy, but it has never been used in the context that they were _real._ Mother, father, and my two brothers have always told me that witches never existed. But there one was, just a few metres ahead. “Now we are trying to exorcise him of his dark magic. If we can not do so, we will burn him at stake.”

 

I stare in wonder at the man, but then my eyes flicker to someone under a robe—Brother Baekhyun. He had been working in the small church in the heart of the town since he was a little boy, and now a young man, he serves as the village sage, if ever there was a sort of magical threat to our little village, he would be the one to cast it away. He was always a little mystery to the town, who hadn’t seen him much since he always stayed within the church, training his magic. It was almost exhilarating being so close to him—so close that if I reach out, I can supposedly touch his dark brown robes, his auburn hair.

 

“When will it start?” I hear a small, hushed voice from beside me. I turn and see a man dressed in white, sticking out horribly like a sore thumb amongst the villagers whose outfits are extremely low-class next to what I can only describe as the princely attire he was in. He was here since earlier, a lot earlier than any of the villagers. He hadn’t moved from where he was standing since the earlier hours of dawn, and I can only wonder why.

 

Brother Baekhyun turns around, and for once I get to see a glimpse of his face, clear and youthful. It was a surprise to see it so suddenly, and my heart stutters as he moves his lips to talk.

 

“Shall I start now?” Brother Baekhyun’s voice was strong, but not loud. It was like he was singing. I’ve only heard him speak a few times, reciting some enchantments that they claim to protect the town. But he was always speaking in some foreign language, and it was a delight to hear him speak something I understand. It’s as if his voice had turned even more beautiful.

 

The man in white nods hesitantly, Adam’s apple rising and lowering in his throat as if he had gulped. His back was tense, that much I can see, and he was holding his breath in, from how much his chest is jutting out of his clothing. It piques my curiosity to why he was so fearful, but then I suppose that it’s because he was so close to a _witch._

 

Brother Baekhyun smiles and pats his back, leaning over to whisper something in his ear before walking ahead, leaving the crowd and ending up a few feet away from the cross. The witch raises his head slightly.

 

“Friends,” Brother speaks loudly, and the whole town ceases their small chattering in favour of listening. He has a proud grin on his face. “You are gathered here today to witness a witch exorcism, lead by myself, Byun Baekhyun. This _witch,_ ” he points to the man behind him, and the man simply narrows his eyes in disdain, “was found by my precious friend, and prince of the kingdom, Zhang Yixing.”

 

I snap my eyes towards the man in white, and the village erupts into quiet whispers all around me as they turn to him. Prince Yixing squirms a little, surprised from all the sudden attention, but then he responds with a rehearsed smile, greeting the villagers softly, just like how a prince would. Brother Baekhyun calls all of us to turn back to him, explaining that if the witch has any spasms, they should back away.

 

My eyes widen in anticipation as Brother Baekhyun announces that he will start.

 

He turns to the witch, an outstretched palm pointing towards him as he starts saying some unintelligible incantations, ones that sound similar, but eerily different from the enchantments he uses for the village. He usually sounded warm, using his regular voice in a singing kind of fashion when performing spells for the town, but as he yells things at the witch, his voice unexpectedly goes higher, breathier, _angrier._

 

“Repent, demon!” Brother Baekhyun yells, and the town cheers on, screaming repeated mantras of _repent, repent, repent._

 

I had also been caught up in yelling at the witch, but then I turn to look at Prince Yixing, who was watching quietly. From the awkward side angle I can see him in, his eyes were scrunched, almost in pain as the frown on his face continues to deepen. Then I look back at the witch, whose face turned from scorn towards the sage to a look of pure sadness. I follow his eyes and realize that he is staring at the prince. As if a spell had been broken, I stopped chanting, only watching what will happen next.

 

Their eyes were dancing around each other, as if in a deep conversation, only between them. As I watch, I feel like I’m listening in on something personal, _private._ Prince Yixing suddenly looks down, and as I glance back at the witch I see that their eyes are hurt, a little surprised, before they go back to staring at Brother Baekhyun.

 

Brother Baekhyun cries out once more. “You have seduced the prince of our kingdom with your black magic, repent!”

 

“Repent! Repent!” repeats the villagers.

 

I stare at the pain in Prince Yixing’s eyes as Baekhyun continues throwing curses at the witch. Realization washes over me—he is taken over by the witch’s spell. The little amount of pity I feel for the man tied to the cross disappears, only turning into disgust and a tiny bit of hatred. I look—glare—back at the witch, before joining in on the chanting once more.

 

The sun beats down on me even harder.

 

 

 

It was a spring morning that day, the butterflies flocking around the village as the children run around to try and catch them. The trees were greener at this time of the year, and the flowers bloomed extravagantly in bushels and amongst the other plant life. 

 

There was a man, with pale, smooth skin yet strong, chiselled features. Light blue clothing graced his body, looking perfect for the season. In his hands, was a small book, one he had been indulging on for the past few days, eyes unable to pry itself off of the words dancing on the yellowed pages. It may possibly be the reason why he doesn’t notice the man strolling around in front of him.

 

It was a bit of a blur as his book falls to the ground—he doesn’t remember the page he was on—and he himself tumbling onto the stone pavement. He mumbles a curse, grabbing his book before looking up, seeing a young man around his age, still miraculously standing up, wearing all white, looking at him with a little awkward smile on his face. Their small fit of anger dies down almost immediately.

 

“I’m sorry,” they say softly, bending over and reaching their hand out for the other. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

 

“Me neither,” the fallen one chuckles in their sweet, refreshing voice, taking the other’s gloved hand and propping himself up. It takes him a moment to pull his hand away and grab his pants, causing the fabric to bunch up together from how tight he’s holding it. He’s a little red in front of the attractive male in front of him, but the same can be said for the other party. “Did I cause any damage?”

 

“No, not at all,” the man in white smiles sheepishly. “I made you fall, though. I’m so sorry.”

 

“You don’t need to apologize,” they look up, smiling brightly, and the other is blushing, cheeks awfully hot for a cool day.

 

There was a cloaked man watching, seeing the prince’s expressions filled with glee as he converses with the stranger. Their eyes were glancing around, as if trying to take in as much of the person’s face as possible, etching the image into his mind. His lips were constantly tugged into a smile around them, and his ears were flushed red.

 

Baekhyun has never seen the prince this in love before.

 

 

 

It was the afternoon, the sky in its highest, hottest. I was sweating profusely but I refuse to give my spot up, wanting to see what will happen.

 

Usually, at times like this, especially since the witch wasn’t particularly responding to Brother Baekhyun’s cries, they would leave, having their own matters to attend to. But they stay anyway, as if they were waiting for something to occur, as if leaving meant missing on something amazing happening.

 

The man—Brother Baekhyun had yelled at some point that his name was Jongdae—was staring, half bored, half exasperated. I wasn’t sure if it was a result of my poor vision or not, but he wasn’t particularly _affected_ by the spells. He mainly reacted whenever Brother Baekhyun would yell something in the common language, usually an insult. Then his face would contort into disgust and anger for a few moments before returning back to normal.

 

But then Brother Baekhyun says this:

 

“Your love was simply a spell,” his voice was raspy from all the yelling earlier in the morning. “Return the heart you have stolen to the prince!”

 

Jongdae was visibly shaken at this, eyes widening, mouth slightly agape as he takes in Brother’s words, slowly sinking into their skin. Their hands, that were originally relaxed, started clenching, arms straining against the ropes binding his wrists to the cross. My heart races, fear running through my veins. Brother Baekhyun urges the villagers and me to step back, and we do, a few steps before stopping again and watching. Instinctively, I turn to the prince, whose leaning forward, feet that were originally aligned suddenly out of place, arranged as if he was going to walk towards Brother Baekhyun, to say something to him. But then he’s completely still.

 

He speaks.

 

“If you call my love for him black magic,” he starts, voice small but at the same time commanding the attention of everyone in the crowd, the panicked murmuring dying down to little whimpers of fear. All of a sudden, gusts of winds started hitting us, our hair flying everywhere, some hats coming off, and the pages on the book Brother Baekhyun was holding flipping wildly. 

 

“Then _burn me at stake._ ”

 

Brother Baekhyun was visibly taken aback with the statement, eyes wide, jaw hung open, completely silent. He slowly turns to another robed man, unreadable expression on his face, telling him to light the torches. “He’s gone insane.”

 

I turn to the same old lady. It appeared that she was talking to me, and I could only nod, still entranced by how the witch spoke for the first time, voice as soft as a passing zephyr. Jongdae was calm as they approached him with three flaming torches, three men surrounding the cross before lowering the torches and making contact with the foundation of the structure. It lights on fire immediately, and I suck a breath in, holding it, out of fear. 

 

“I’m so sorry,” I hear.

 

 

 

Yixing looks down upon the man, small frown on his face as he unshackles Jongdae. “It is time.”

 

“You do not believe me,” Jongdae says when he stands up, knees almost buckling from how he’s been kneeling the entire time, knees red and bruising. 

 

“I do not believe you, but I love you,” Yixing brings his hand up to cup the younger’s cheek, making them look up at him. Yixing doesn’t overlook the beads of tears lining his deep black eyes, somehow warm. Before Jongdae could say anything, he continues. “Even if it does end up being a spell, my feelings for you are true. I love you, more than anything, Jongdae."

 

He leans in to press one last kiss upon his dirtied lips.

 

 

 

The flames have overtaken much of the cross, barely letting me see any of the witch. They didn’t move, nor scream in pain once the fire reached their feet. Brother Baekhyun is spilling some sort of water on the cross, and each time the droplets make contact with the fire, the flames only get stronger. I wince imagining what it’s like being in the witch’s place.

 

Prince Yixing is holding in his tears, hand covering his mouth as if he were trying to hold back sobs. Although learning the truth about their love, I still felt some sort of hurt seeing him watch his loved one burning, lit on fire for everyone to watch.

 

“I say this to you one last time,” Brother Baekhyun starts, breath heaving as he ceases sprinkling the liquid. The fire’s energy dwindles, but still continues to climb up the cross. i can only see Jongdae’s face through all of it, but he is simply staring, irises moving ever so slightly to place his attention on our sage. “Repent, witch.”

 

Everything goes mute.

 

“You,” the flames stop, and Jongdae is in front of Brother Baekhyun, “are a fool.”

 

The town erupts into blood-curdling screams as the flames burst with such a high energy that it spreads around it, engulfing the witch and almost capturing Brother Baekhyun within it. Some villagers have ended up pushing me as they ran away in fear, and so there I lay, on the ground, simply watching as the crowd clears up, only leaving behind evidence of their presence with the trampled grass around me. 

 

Prince Yixing was still there, standing still, almost lifeless, all alone as the flames die down and reveal three charred corpses on the ground. They were shriveled up, curled up like a newborn baby, black, crumbling. Brother Baekhyun was paralyzed in fear, on the ground just like me, yet completely still. There was no one tied to the cross.

 

In front of me falls a single black feather.


End file.
